


How Little Sigrun decided to become a Valkyrie

by Rithalie



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Author Doesn't Know How to Use Tags, Brave Sigrun, Characters as forces of nature, Death is cool unless Sleep messes up, Emil Västerström/Lalli Hotakainen if you squint, Everyone cut Sleep some slack he is TIRED, Fairy Tale Elements, Fire is the nicest one tbh, Little Sigrun (at least at the beginning), No Beta we die like vikings, Someone calm the water down, Stone is Meddling as usual, Stubborn Sigrun, Wind is Distracted, self-growth fic (kinda)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:48:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28899915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rithalie/pseuds/Rithalie
Summary: When Little Sigrun of the Eide Clan celebrates her fifth birthday she announces to the whole world she wants to become a Valkyrie.She is determined to fulfill her quest.Or, alternatively, how does Sigrun reads as a heroine of a classic European-like fairy tale.
Comments: 13
Kudos: 17





	1. How Little Sigrun decided to become a Valkyrie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kat_o_nine_Tails](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_o_nine_Tails/gifts), [trashpocket](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashpocket/gifts).



> Hey Hi Hello!  
> This little one-shot wouldn't make it here if it wasn't for writers Kat_o_nine_tails and trashpocket who happily accepted me into the fandom and keep motivating me. Thank you!
> 
> Also, this is my first story to be published here, please keep it in mind if you find any funny mistakes.  
> Also, english is not my first language,
> 
> May Odin have mercy on me.

When Little Sigrun of the Eide Clan celebrates her fifth birthday she announces to the whole world she wants to become a Valkyrie.

“That's very nice to hear my dear,” says her mother and her father ruffles her hair lovingly, but they do not heed her words, for children's vows are as easily made as they are broken.

“I want to become a Valkyrie!” yells Sigrun again on her sixth birthday.

“You can achieve whatever you want to,” swears her father, handing her her first wooden practice dagger.

“I want to become a Valkyrie!” she tells everyone who wants to listen to her on her seventh.

“Don't you want to be a chief like your parents?” asks her grandfather, puzzled, a former chief himself.

“I want to become a Valkyrie!” screams Sigrun alongside her cousins when she is eight, and they get caught outside the Hall, trying to go hunt a bear alone.

“Who told her that myth?” demands to know her grandmother, dragging her by the ear back inside.

“I want to become a Valkyrie!” she insists a year later.

“Wouldn't you rather want a pony?” begs her mother, while her father groans with head in his hands.

“I want to become a Valkyrie!” wishes ten-year-old Sigrun, but by now even her cousins pay her no heed, for all the times she has already spoken about it but done nothing to prove her intentions.

In the Great Hall, only the old, bald man sitting near the fireplace listens to her claim and beckons her forward with a hand calloused by the years of carving runes. She goes unwillingly, for he was a scholar and the Elder of the clan, known for his wisdom but also a harsh character.

“If you truly want to become a Valkyrie you will need to ask for Odin’s permission,” he says once she kneels next to his seat by the fire.

“And in order to do so you must be vouched for by both Fire and Water, Stone and Wind, Sleep and Death,” he explains solemnly, looking at the young red-haired child, barely a seedling in his eyes.

“The road is not easy, and your desire must be made of iron, but if you manage to do that, you will become the one you are meant to be.”

“I will find Fire and Water, Stone and Wind, Sleep and Death and I will ask them to vouch for me!” swears young Sigrun with spark in her eyes and desire made of iron.

“Then you shall depart at once,” warns her old man, “your journey will take long and dreams can fade quickly while you wait”

At the break of dawn, while her parents sleep soundly and the birthday guests all lay passed out in the Great Hall, Sigrun sneaks out.

She has her trusted dagger, a metal one that she received a year prior, a sack full of dried jerky, and filled water pouch. On her back is a navy blue cloak tied with her family crest clasp, and she is ready to face an adventure.

She walks for many days, unrelenting in her pursuit.

When she is hungry she gathers berries in the forests, when she is thirsty she drinks from streams, when she is cold she sets a fireplace and when she is tired she builds a shelter, for she is Eide Clan’s daughter, and she is resourceful and brave.

Once a full moon has passed she stops for a break in the small forest clearing at the foot of the mountain. The night is cold, so she starts a fire, feeding it meticulously from a small ember into a full flame and when she finally sets for a night she thinks she can hear It whispering.

“And who might you be, o weary traveler?” asks Fire.

“I am Sigrun Eide, and I am on a quest to become a Valkyrie,” answers the young girl.

“Then you will need my assistance,” says Fire, crackling warmly. 

“But as the tree won't grow without seed, you also must have something I need.”

Sigrun thinks for a moment.

“I have the meat I stored for myself, but one I can give you, because I know you need to eat to survive, and I know how to feed myself in the forest,” she offers.

“That will do nicely, but I also have to ask you for something that is your own. Please tell me all the stories you have heard over the fireplace, for I love to hear them but never manage to listen to them in full.”

“All of them?” asks Sigrun, for patience is not one of her virtues.

“A year from your time,” says Fire kindly, “and then I will vouch for you before the Great Odin. Alas, when you meet the others, please greet them for me because I miss them dearly”

Sigrun has no choice but to accept.

For a year she tells Fire all the stories she knows. It listens closely and when she gets tired It encourages her to rest, guarding her through the night. When she gets hungry, Its warmth makes berry bushes sprung from earth around them and feed her, when she is thirsty It asks the birds to gather morning dew for her.

Most importantly, when her voice cracks or memory fails her It tells her Its own stories, imperfect and mixed as they are.

Once a full year has passed, Fire thanks Sigrun for her company and swears to help her in front of Odin and then finally flickers out, leaving behind a red ruby half buried in the ash. The girl takes it and is grateful for Fire’s generosity.

She walks forward with her iron resolve strengthened.

In the next village she visits, young Sigrun sells the ruby to buy herself new clothes and resources for further travel for she has outgrown her old tunics and boots in the past year.

She moves forward once again as the season changes and soon she wanders onto the land lush with forests and lakes filled with silver fish. When the sun starts to burn hot against her neck and shoulders she decides to stop and take rest on the bank of the stream. When she kneels to splash her face she thinks she can hear a soft murmur of the song in the stream. 

“Are you the Water I am meant to meet?” she asks.

“It depends,” answers Water, “What do you want from me?”

“I want for you to vouch for me before the Great Odin so I can become a Valkyrie!” says Sigrun.

“And what would I have from you then? As the Lake is born from spring, I also deserve an offering”

Sigrun thinks for a long moment, but she can't find almost anything Water may want on her. 

“I could give you a dagger as shiny as your surface in the sun and as narrow and deadly as you seem,” she says with a heavy heart, for the dagger was a present from her father and belonged to many chiefs before her.

“It will have to be enough,” says Water slowly, “but I also require something that you're willing to give that is your own.” 

“I could tell you stories I’ve heard.”

“I have no need for your stories.”

“Then I could tell you about all the places I've been to and heard about!”

“I've travelled farther and seen more places than you will ever be able to tell me about, child.” 

“Then I could show you what I know of the art of the battle, as my clan name is Eide and we birthed many heroes of the sword!”

“I have no body to fight with, nor do I have to. There is not much that can stand in my way,” answers Water. “It seems you have nothing to offer to me”

“I don't know what else I could give!” cries out Sigrun, “The Fire asked for stories, and it was easy enough to fulfill, why would you be so unfair?”

“Life is rarely fair, child,” says Water. After a long moment of silence it quietly asks, “You spoke with the Fire already?”

“Do you know of the Fire?” asks Sigrun and feels shame for only now she remembers Fire’s plea.

“I know of it and I know It. Its warmth gives life to everything that lives in me, and its stories always keep me company. My presence is not easy for It to stand and yet It comes to me often and reflects upon my surface.” A moment of silence, “...I miss It terribly.”

The stream stops for a moment and Sigrun waits anxiously before it.

“You will give me a year of your time, and you will tell me about Fire,” commands Water finally.

“Every kind of its manifestation you've encountered. Then I will vouch for you before Odin.”

Sigrun has no choice but to stay by the stream for a year. Water is not as talkative as Fire was but when she gets tired It guards her against any danger, when she gets hungry It provides fish for her and when she is thirsty It allows her to drink from the stream. 

The young girl talks about Fire and when memory fails her she recalls some conversation about It between people, old wife tales and village legends, and It seems to please the Water when It hears praises the folks sing for the helpful flames. 

After a year has passed Water finally promises to vouch for Sigrun before Odin. As Its presence fades away, It sloshes lazily against her boots, leaving behind a small Sapphire. The young girl picks it up and thanks Water for Its generosity.

Once again Sigrun sets off to the nearest village to buy new clothes for herself. She also buys a dagger that, although not as fine and sharp as her last, serves her just as well.

She travels for a long time, scouting far and wide and despite her resolve being made of iron, she finds it hard to keep her hopes up on the journey.

She makes it to the great land full of rolling hills and heavy boulders. In the distance she can see the sea and a small port that reminds her of the country she left behind almost three years ago.

The desire she feels for her home suddenly sneaks on her, and she sits heavily on one of the boulders, spreading her blue cape underneath her. Through her dejected sighs she thinks she can hear the stone rumbling.

“And who might you be, as confident as you are to use me for your comfort?” asks Stone.

“I am Sigrun of the Eide Clan and I wish for your help to become a Valkyrie,” says the girl, but she doesn't get down from the boulder, “and I do not believe myself heavy enough to bother a Stone as strong as you.”

“If your wish is to come true you will need my help,” rumbles the Stone, “Though your flattery is appreciated and a welcome distraction, it will not suffice. As the Landslide starts with a pebble, without good offer I will not meddle.”

Sigrun thinks for a long moment.

“I could offer you my cloak,” She says.

“And dare to say girl, What possibly could I have to do with a cloak?”

“If I leave it spread like this on this boulder then more people will sit here, and you will get entertainment from them,” grins Sigrun, “for its obvious there isn't much to do, see or hear on these plains.”

Stone lets out a chuckle that makes the boulder tremble beneath her.

“While I cannot say I agree with your belief, this offer will more than suffice if delivered by a person with such confidence. And what of that is yours that only you can offer me?”

The teen girl groans at that, falling flat on her back. She recalls Fire’s greeting to the Stone and passes it on as she thinks furiously.

“Would you like to hear a story?” 

“I shall not do you a dishonor of repeating yourself, for I know for sure Fire has already claimed this offer,” says Stone slyly, “Perhaps there is something both of us can find solace in right now?”

“Then do you wish to be entertained?” asks Sigrun, “For what I desire most right now is to lighten the burden of my heart who is missing home.”

“I shall hear your entertainment,” agrees Stone, “and if you manage to quell your homesickness long enough to stay with me for a year I will gladly vouch for you before The Greatest of Kings.”

Sigrun stays with Stone for a year, entertaining it with jokes and stories. It offers her many jests in retaliation and soon the girl gains vast knowledge in the art of friendly mockery and jabs. When she sleeps, Stone protects her, when she is hungry It asks the mice and birds to bring her seeds and fruit and when she is thirsty, the boulders bleed water for her from the cracks they have collected over decades.

Once a year has passed Stone promises to vouch for Sigrun, and she thanks It for the joyful company. As the presence of It fades away and the girl jumps down from the boulder she finds a fine glittering quartz hidden in the folds of the navy blue cloak. She takes the treasure and thanks Stone for Its generosity.

In the port she has seen before, she sells the quartz and buys herself new clothes, for she is almost fourteen now and has once again outgrown her attire in the year spent on the hills. Her fire-red hair has grown long, reaching past her knees, and she braids it with a family crest clasp holding it together since she has no other use for it without a cape.

The only way forward is to venture sea-bound and Sigrun offers her help on one of the ships heading north. The captain is a good man, and he offers her protection in exchange for her working with the crew during the journey.

On the third night on the ship young Sigrun stands alone on the deck to watch the stars that fill the dark sky, and she thinks she can hear a soft laugh of the wind around her.

“Are you the traveler Stone told me about?” asks Wind.

“It depends,” grins Sigrun, “Will you help me and vouch for me to become a Valkyrie before the Great Odin? Although I must say I have no idea as to what to offer you.”

The Wind laughs lightly as It dances around the mast and ruffles her clothes.

“Oh, you must have met Water already. Very well, as every wind is born from a breath, what offering will you give me instead?” It asks.

“It won't be easy as whatever I manage to collect ends scattered all over the world before I can enjoy it fully. There are very few things I could keep for long.”

Sigrun wonders for a moment.

“What about if I give you my hair?” she asks, for she remembers the anguish it always caused for ladies to find it scattered everywhere back home. 

“If I give you a bunch, you will be entertained until you lose every single strand, and they are light and easy to pick for you.”

Wind swirls happily around her, easily picking up her braid and making it sway.

“A brilliant idea!” It says.

So Sigrun picks up her dagger and cuts her fire-red hair at her nape, leaving behind a ragged crown of wild mane around her face.

Wind picks up the braid with the Eide crest and swirls it around them, and the hair looks like a living being dancing along. The sight of it makes Sigrun laugh loudly.

“You have a laugh made of sunlight,” chirps Wind.

“For it shines bright even in the night. My duties are calling me and I’m afraid I cannot stay with you for a full year but if you promise to share this laughter with a world for that time I will vouch for you before the Great Odin.”

Sigrun happily agrees.

For a year of traveling she shares her joy with the world and soon finds herself comrades in the sailors who are happy to have her brighten their days on long voyages. They teach her the fine art of sailing, how to protect herself against the odds, fight with the sea behind her back and sun in her eyes, navigate foolish waters and tame the breeze. In return, she jests with them, shares stories she’s heard and made on her long journey.

Once a year has passed Wind returns to find a ship filled with laughter and contentment and is very pleased with Sigrun as It offers Its help in the presence of Odin. 

Before It goes away It asks her about whom she has yet to meet and upon hearing her answer the Wind says:

“I shall go and find the Sleep for you, as It comes and goes unevenly. In the meantime you shall head home, for both It and Death are as easily found far from home as close to it and after four years of hardships you must miss your family terribly.”

Sigrun thanks Wind for its help and as It fades away she finds a green emerald tucked deep in her pocket. 

As soon as the ship makes its way to her homeland she quickly exchanges the emerald for various goods and not only pays back her captain generously for employing her, but also finds herself a steed to aid her in quick return home. The sailors bid her teary goodbyes as she gallops away.

It takes her a season to finally return and once she does she is greeted with tears and laughter, countless nagging and many relieved hugs, for her family thought her dead already, despite the old man’s words.

The bald elder looks suspiciously at the young girl, now at the edge of becoming a woman, fifteen years old and already towering over him.

“Did you fulfill your quest, girl?” he asks

“I almost did, I have only Sleep and Death to ask now, and I'm sure I will soon convince them!” laughs Sigrun.

The old man nods gravely, although he doesn't share her joyful attitude, for he knows the last two of the beings are the hardest to contact, despite being everywhere around them.

And he is right, because Sigrun waits for a long time. She becomes famous around her homeland, entertains her cousins with stories she has heard and places she has seen. 

The youngest of the village shadow her during the day and many stay by her for the nights spent by the fire, to hear about her adventures. She claims the attention and takes joy in camaraderie, but she slowly grows impatient for the Sleep has yet to appear before her.

Finally, after much time she meets Sleep. It comes to her in the dream, in a place filled with mist and never ending water, a figure of a pale man in ragged fur with bright eyes framed by a fatigue and hidden under a white hood.

“Are you the warrior Wind told me about?” he asks, “Are you the one who convinced Fire to help you, managed to sway Water, entertained Stone and helped Wind?”

“Yes I am. My name is Sigrun of the Eide Clan,” Says the woman proudly, happy to finally step closer toward her goal. 

“My wish is to become a Valkyrie, will you promise to aid me as the others have promised?” she asks. 

The Sleep watches her for a long moment, eerily silent.

“My help is not as easily obtained,” he says finally, “And you shall see no gratitude from me at the end.”

“My resolve is made of iron, and I am ready to offer you whatever you desire.” swears Sigrun lightly, but she is not prepared to hear Sleep’s offer.

“Like my sister has counted every being’s time, will you be able to offer us your life?”

Brave, red-haired Sigrun can not help but falter at that, for she has just come home from a tiring journey and doesn't want to abandon her family so quickly again.

“Aren't you the Sleep?” she asks finally, after a long moment of silence.

“You do not easily take lives and I believe your words are meant to scare me away. I will give you a year worth of my dreams as my offering and in a year you can ask me about my life again.”

Sleep looks disgruntled, but he agrees with a heavy nod and soon disappears in the mist.

Sigrun wakes up in a cold sweat and despite her resolve, it takes a moment for her to calm down.

She doesn't dream for a full year and tries to use her time as best as she can. She stays with her parents who are delighted to have her close. They are getting older and wish for her to share their responsibilities and to teach her the ways of the chief which she gladly does, not only to please them but also because she finds them most rewarding.

She hunts with her cousins once again, coming back with enough furs to provide for a whole village, she takes village children to show them far islands and come back with nets full of shiny fish.

Her parents and the elders of the village are content to watch her grow and adapt, and they weave plans for her to lead the Eide Clan into a new era of prosperity.

Time flies and the closer Sigrun gets to the designated date the more troubled she feels, for she enjoys her life immensely and doesn't wish to forsake it easily. Her resolve is made of iron, but she feels as if it begins to change shape in the heat of her distress and under the pressure of her family’s expectations.

When the time comes and Sleep visits her once again she has not managed to make up her mind.

“You have given me a year worth of dreams,” says Sleep, “And I accepted it but my word of support will be useless without that of Death’s. Have you decided to offer your life in exchange for your dream?”

“My life is not easy to give,” says Sigrun, “For it also bears the expectations and trust of the people who put their faith in me and what I can achieve. Is there truly nothing else can I offer?” 

“My sister comes for everyone,” says Sleep, “And when she takes them they have nothing on them, and they desire nothing from then on. The only thing you can offer her is the time you have yet to spend.”

And the brave, flame-haired Sigrun is not ready to give it, for she cares for her village and people more than she cares even for her dream.

“I cannot give Death what she asks of me,” she says with a heavy heart and wetness in her eyes.

The Sleep studies her with something akin to a pity.

“Very well then,” he says, tugging on his hood as the woman in front of him stands proud despite tears rolling down her cheeks. He offers no further comfort as his figure dissolves in the mist.

The following years are troubling for Sigrun, for while she knows her decision was good for the village, her heart is not as easily comforted. She busies herself with new responsibilities and training and soon becomes a famous warrior, praised for her strength and technique.

She uses the knowledge gained on her travels and forges bonds with her companions stronger than any rope or tie, listens patiently to the demands of her people and soon becomes known for her loyalty and wit.

She slowly learns to live with the grief over the lost dream and as she takes a mantle of the Chief of the Eide Clan she proves to be worthy of all the praises she receives and will receive for countless years.

And when the time finally comes for her to rest she closes her eyes in the middle of the battlefield with a smile on her face and battle song in her blood.

For she knows she has chosen well and her clan, led by her children and grandchildren who she taught everything she knew will flourish even without her.

When she opens her eyes once again Sigrun sees the vast misty waters and standing before her is the Sleep. 

He hasn't changed at all, still looking at her with those bright eyes hidden beneath the white hood.

She changed a lot, grey hair braided with family tokens, and lines of fatigue and laughter lining her eyes and cheeks.

“Have you come to take me to Valhalla, old friend?” asks Sigrun and her voice is cracked by countless battle cries.

“I don't. I merely came to assist,” he says, just as someone delicately taps her on the shoulder.

Sigrun turns around and before her stands a white-haired woman clad in fur and feathers, with the kindest eyes she has ever seen and warmest smile she has ever received.

“I am Death,” says the woman, “And I believe we did not have a chance to meet properly.”

Sigrun smiles at Death, for many times she has felt her presence beside her during fights and considers her a most trusted companion.

“I never forgot your offer,” she says, “and I thank you for it, though I wasn't able to accept it because of my duty. I lived my life to the fullest,” smiles Sigrun with a heart light and warm despite her demise, “and I’m afraid I have no time to give you now.”

Death looks at Sigrun kindly, clasping her hands in between her own.

“You lived a beautiful life,” she agrees, “and what my brother has never managed to quite understand, I happen to value a good life filled with memories over the early death, for the only thing the people I come for can take with them are the treasures of their memory.”

“What do you mean?” asks Sigrun.

“You have spent your entire life fulfilling the offer I made for you, although you were unaware one was created in the first place,” says Death, “for that, I am more than happy to vouch for you before Odin.”

“Sigrun Of the Eide Clan, the strongest of your kin, with the will of iron and heart of gold, do you wish to become a Valkyrie?” asks Death, and her eyes reflect the smile that slowly blooms on an old woman’s face. 

“Yes,” says Sigrun and tears are flowing down her cheeks.

Just as the words are spoken, the three of them find themselves on the open field on top of the fjord, towering over the clouds. 

Sigrun is surprised to see her hands becoming younger, strength seeping back into her muscles and hair becoming once again red as the fire that burns in her heart. 

Her clothes change to the finest armor of steel and gold, and from her shoulders springs the cloak of fine white feathers, lined with a deep navy blue material, clasped by the familiar Eide’s family crest. 

On her side hangs her trusted dagger she has once flung into the stream and she feels satiated as if she has just finished a feast.

There is a sound of hooves from behind her and as she turns around she finds a beautiful horse with wings white as snow and hooves branded with gold. It comes to her willingly, and she feels tears of happiness streaming down her cheeks once more.

“The Gods have been watching you,” says Death behind her.

“You have been deemed worthy by them a long time ago, but the rules must be obeyed and my voice must have been heard, just as your acceptance,” She smiles at Sigrun with her arms outstretched and the Valkyrie hugs her eagerly, despite Sleep’s outraged cry.

“Wipe your tears, brave Valkyrie,” says Death, “for it’s time for you to meet your sisters in arms and begin your service to the Gods.”

“I will make everyone who vouched for me proud!” swears Sigrun the Valkyrie and this time, her words are believed by everyone.


	2. Post-Scriptum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That's it, those are short post-scriptum notes I made during writing this one-shot. They are silly and short and I hope they make you chuckle :D
> 
> See ya!

"Sleep! Do you remember me?"

"...Gods Dammit"

* * *

"Did you really miss me?" asks Fire.

"...Stupid," says Water.

* * *

"You! Are! Not! Making! Decisions! For! Me!" declares Death, whacking Sleep upside down on the head with a Book of Life.

* * *

"Meddling again, old friend?" asks Sigrun the Valkyrie, years later, casually leaning against a magic sword wedged in the stone boulder somewhere in Wales.

"I must admit, I find their their squabbles most entertaining" answers Stone.

**Author's Note:**

> You can drag the concept of Valkyrie Sigrun out of my cold, dead hands, let me tell you.
> 
> Also, this work will have a short, comedic post-scriptum as the second chapter but the story ends here.  
> Hope you liked it and please tell me what you think <3


End file.
